This must be your diploma from the school of hard knocks

As of early 2018, Angel is now NO LONGER ACTIVE on this blog. Due to declining activity, she has since been relocated to my multimuse blog, and may now be found at:

@whereverthemusetakesme

   HER TRUST WAS GIVEN EASILY.  Sarah had trusted her so-called family, after all.  Even when her “father” had been doing horrible things to her.  Even when her “mother” had ignored her soft cries for help.  For ATTENTION.  Yet no one had really given her any of that.  She was just a little girl that no one really knew existed – not having even started s c h o o l yet.  Sarah, however, had craved so much for love and affection and, knowing no one else, she had had no one else to turn to than those that refused to give her what she sought.

                           At the apology offered, she was confused, head tilted.  In some ways, she grasped what the other was saying such a thing for, but the majority of her mind didn’t quite understand.  Head craned about to look over her room, knowing that part of the comfort was because this place was no longer her bedroom.  She wouldn’t be returning any time soon.

           Most likely not e v e r.

                   “S’okay, sissy.  I’m not alone, at least.”  Small grin, knowing that that didn’t fix much in the end, but still finding joy in the fact that she had someone to guide her.  To be there when her heart would grow sad over the newfound circumstance.  It was not much a SILVER lining, but it was better than embracing absolute negativity.  Then she might become but a puddle of tears on the ground for Angel to mop up.

          Holding tight to the elder’s hand, she wandered along after.  Carefully down the stairs, though confused as Angel went away from the door and to a shattered window.  Green eyes blinked to the sharped bits of glass left behind before trailing over to the door.  Head shook, once more baffled by the situation presented.

                             “…But can’t you jus’ unlocks the door now tha’ yous INSIDE?  Tha’ seems dangerous.  I don’t wants you getting cut.”

“I don't have the key; how would the door unlock?”

She frowned at the younger girl; her expression not angry or demeaning, just confused. Granted, Angel hadn’t studied the door in any great depth, even from the outside - it wouldn’t serve her for an entrance, so she had bypassed it entirely - but as Toughy had yet to teach her the art of picking a lock, she simply assumed that a key would be needed to open it, no matter what side she was on.

Maybe that wasn’t the case, though.

Sarah would know better than her - and, in spite of her question, Angel trusted her new sister’s judgement. The back way might be a little less noticeable, it was true; but it also probably wasn’t worth the extra effort if they could just open the front door.

Quite apart from that, the younger girl’s concern for her was... quite surprising. Angel, who was used to getting cuts and scrapes as a fact of life, would have thought little of it if the had cut herself - and indeed, there was a slight scratch on her elbow already from her entry that same way - but that Sarah wanted to protect her from something that was so... minor, in her eyes?

It touched her. No-one had shown her that kind of concern before - excepting maybe the mother she hardly even remembered. She gave Sarah’s scarred hand a careful squeeze of appreciation, before focusing.

                  AS MUCH AS SHE ACTED ANYTHING BUT, Cat thrived off having connections.  Not being extroverted or the like, just having people near, of knowing she wasn’t ENTIRELY alone whether by the sight of another or by the mere concept of their existence.  She was not fearful of such a situation – being a l o n e was a state of being she endured often – but she did better when it wasn’t consuming her.  Being by herself in body and mind allowed the voices to grow too loud.  Her paranoia, her anxiety…  and the sadness would settle into her bones, leaving her struggling to rise each morning.

          She still managed, focused on getting food and surviving.  Finding shelter, having water, maybe evening showering if she had the will for it.  All these things kept her from spiraling into disaster.  Yet, it was p e o p l e who did the most.  When her mind turned away from her own needs to those of others, she could ignore her own pains, as well.

                   Seeking out the companionship of those who didn’t spurn her was to keep her drive going as much as to fill a lonely heart.  Though that was hardly known to her, other than the fact she dared to reach out in greater kindness to those she gave even PARTIAL trust to.  Hence the invitation she had provided to Angel.  The blonde was not a threat so far as Cat was concerned, and though the ring and juvie and a number of other instances had proven to her that even allies couldn’t be trusted, it didn’t stop her in some cases.

        No one had ever given her reason to provide benevolent behaviors.  Not since Scott, Amy, and Jon.  Freddie wasn’t so bad a person himself, but he wasn’t exactly reliable.  Just…  not one to take advantage of others.  A KIND, if not muddled soul she rarely saw.

                  Perhaps Cat was an oddity from the streets…  Or perhaps just an oddity in general.  By all definitions, she should have lost her empathy ages ago.  Yet there was s o m e t h i n g she clung to that kept her from sinking beneath the waves.  Most likely the image of Scott when she checked up on him on the television.  He had once sought her out… but juvie and the ring had kept her from running to him.

           And now she was not the girl he had once been looking for.                   ( But oh how she longed to be )

                   Whatever Angel was thinking of, Cat didn’t pry.  She only briefly caught sight of the other starting to make a face, but the brunette would have just considered it to be based off the situation.  The place was lousy, after all, and cold soup and an apple was barely a meal.  Yet it would do, and Cat’s stomach was e a g e r for whatever she had to offer.  At least soup and an apple would be much easier than greasy, fast food.

         Fingers pried off the lid ( thank heaves for cans now having the pull off ones these days ), laying it to the side as she carefully sat upon the aged piece of furniture.  Long sip was taken, trying to get at least a few vegetables in the mouth other than the brother.  Then she placed it between them whilst going for her apple, figuring they could take as they please.  It would work out ONE way or another.

                          “Fair enough.”  The response was delayed, but she finally found the willingness to speak, caught between thinking of food and just feeling too tired to process conversation.  Trying to go on, however, she knew she was bad with small talk, but there was an attempt, “Good t’know tha’ you… can do it.”

             ( Did it count as an attempt if she turned it into a pun? )

Angel just couldn’t help but snort into her apple as Cat cracked the pun. It wasn’t even that funny, all things considered; but it was so rare, in this kind of life, to find any humour that she had learned to take what she could get. Wiping juice from her chin, Angel’s glance at the other contained a small sparkle of of her amusement.

Could she have replied with something equally as jokey? Probably; but Angel’s brand of humour was more steeped in sarcasm and teasing than wordplay, and she just didn’t feel up to that right now.

Still, her smile was enough to tell Cat that she appreciated it.

She took another bite of the apple; then as she chewed, began playing with the fruit in her hands. Tossing and catching it deftly, even putting a slight spin on it... showing off a little, one might even call it. Angel wasn’t really looking to impress Cat, who probably had much the same skill-set as she did, but...

It was kind of her way. The girl was a little bit of a show-off at heart, though the streets rarely gave her the opportunity to demonstrate that much - except to the occasional wide-eyed kid who found her lifestyle ‘neat’ rather than repulsive. She loved wowing them with her so-called slick moves, even as she hoped they’d never find themselves in her shoes.

And those show-off ways occasionally manifested themselves in such simple actions as, well... this.

Catching the apple again after a particularly trick throw, Angel paused before taking another bite, looking at her companion.

“You know... you’re really different from anyone else I’ve met on the streets.” Her voice was softer than usual, more sincere. Between the genuine kindness, the willingness to share... and not to even mention the puns now... Angel found Cat constantly surprising her.

A part of her wanted to ask further; but prying into someone’s past was usually a no-go out here. Heaven knew, Angel would be reluctant to talk about her own; so instead, she settled for a different sentiment.

“it is pretty fun. Time consuming when we’re filming, but otherwise? I like it,” he said. He didn’t miss the wistfulness in Angel’s tone. She really did want to leave this town. That wasn’t something he could blame her for. Marcelline did seem like a nice little town, but it also seemed… lacking, for lack of a better word. Obviously, there was the fact that she couldn’t find anyone to trust too. That just made his heart ache more.

A breath was taken so Patch could offer to let her come along, but then he hesitated. Thunderbolt, the rest of the cast, and the crew wouldn’t like him bringing a stranger along with them. But… he also didn’t want her to be on her own.

“I wish I could do something to make it possible for you to travel,” Patch said. She deserved to see the world. After all she’d endured as a street dog, Patch thought it just was right. But what could he do?

“I think you deserve to see what’s out there. Away from here, I mean.”

“You’re sweet, Patch. But please, don’t worry on my account.”

I’m not worth it.

True though it might be, at least in her estimation, Angel didn’t voice that part of the thought; settling instead for a rather lame:

“I know how to get by. It’s no big deal, really.”

If it wasn’t a big deal, Angel knew - they both knew - then it wouldn’t have come up in conversation in the first place. Patch was practically a stranger to her, after all; and yet, somehow, he’d got her opening up about things she wouldn’t usually talk about at all.

Maybe it was just his... innocence, that invited her to keep talking. It had been too long since Angel had known someone so pure and caring. Far longer since she’d been like that herself.

“Anyway, about that guided tour...”

She shook the thoughts away and picked up the pace a little. No need for Patch to concern himself with her, like she’d said; hopefully, picking up the tour she’d initially been going to give him would put such thoughts from his mind.

  Buster snorted, he could agree with that, humans were suckers when it came to throwing stuff away, he saw it every day, every year and it was all gone to waste… if it wasn’t for them anyway.

  Then he realised what she had said about where she got it from and his ears perked, leaning down to eye level with her with a raised brow.

  “ Snob hill?” He snuffed, there was of course the question on what she was doing out there in the first place, it wasn’t like it was easy, especially when stray’s stuck out like a sore thumb out there. “Tsk, your loss if ya get caught, sweetie… But then, they not expect many junkyard dogs round those parts… Aha! Brilliant!”

  He drew her closer with a paw, chuckling as if he’d just had an epiphany and it actually came from him.

  “ I always get the best ideas when my girl is around! Come on, baby, we got big fish to fry!” He leapt to his feet, trotting out of the junkyard, expecting to be followed.

“I’m not your girl.”

Aaaaand he wasn’t listening anymore. Angel had hardly expected anything different - indeed, half of the reason she felt safe enough to say that out loud was because she knew Buster never seemed to hear it - but the pom-mix still found herself irked.

Why did the statement always rile her up so much? Was it possibly because, in her most honest moments, she had to acknowledge that there was some truth to it?

Nevertheless, after wolfing down the remains of her meal too fast to actually taste it, she padded along after Buster as he patted himself on the back for ‘his’ idea. That point, Angel wasn’t even going to bother contradicting him on.